


i will buy you the flower shop and you will never be lonely

by bio_at



Category: MindCrack RPF
Genre: M/M, flowershop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bio_at/pseuds/bio_at
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Etho owns a flower shop, and Arkas learns the language of flowers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will buy you the flower shop and you will never be lonely

**Author's Note:**

> [aggressively tries to sail ship on my own] This is a fic I've had sitting in my documents for a very, very long time, and I have wisely decided to finalize and publish it right before my finals month.
> 
> Title from The Gambler by fun.

_i. innocence_

He stared warily at the thick _Handbook of Neurobiology_ title that stood out starkly in the arms of the lanky college student who was looking very intently at the orchids hanging by the side of his shop. The student, with messy brown hair and a blue-gray bag slung over one shoulder, leaned towards his flower baskets and took a few oxeye daisies, carefully avoiding touching the yellow ones.

“Nice choice,” Etho smiled at him as he took them. Blue-Gray jumped and looked down at the mask over Etho’s nose, mouth and neck, then looked away politely, shuffling his feet and avoiding his eyes. “Thanks for your purchase,” Etho continued, feeling mischievous as Blue-Gray readjusted his book to accommodate the flowers.

“You’re welcome,” he replied shyly. He then ran off towards the stairs leading to the apartment above the flower shop, and Etho thought he heard a loud sneeze.

 

_ii. confidence_

“Hello again,” Etho said happily, as Blue-Gray walked into the shade of the flower shop in the late setting sun. “Where’s your big book?”

“Oh,” Blue-Gray laughed and gripped his shoulder bag strap tighter. “We didn’t need it in class today.”

“Fun, isn’t it?” Etho drawled, setting down his secateurs and walking over to lean on the counter. Blue-Gray had a slight accent, like he was constantly rolling ‘r’s, even when he wasn’t saying the letter. “Neurobiology. Love that stuff. Study of the, uh…” Blue-Gray looked at him expectantly with a wide smile on his face, “…brain?”

“There you go,” Blue-Gray grinned. His eyes wandered to the counter behind Etho, where he’d been trimming lilacs for a new flower arrangement. “That looks nice,” he said tentatively. “Can I have one of those today?”

Etho glanced behind him. He plucked one of the white lilacs from the basket and handed it to him. “I like how you said ‘today’, with the implication of coming back, so. You can have this one on the house. Or did you want more?”

Blue-Gray opened his mouth, closed it, then took the flower, his eyes darting down to his mask again. “Thank you.” He poked his nose at the lilac, and Etho felt something purr in his chest.

“I mean, I hope white is okay. There’s other colors—”

“No, this one’s alright. As long as it’s not yellow.” Blue-Gray shuddered.

“Not yellow, eh? I’ll keep that in mind,” Etho said happily.

 

_intermission_

 “I don’t get why you’re so worried,” Zisteau told him lazily, not looking up from the thick architectural history book he was poring over. “A _neurobiology_ undergrad? He probably has to memorize all the nerves in the amygdala or something. He’ll be back in like two weeks.”

“He lives over my shop,” Etho said simply, setting down the coffee cup on its saucer and not bothering to ask what the amygdala was. “He’s either going home really late or not going home at all. And it’s been a _week_ , Z. That’s not healthy.”

“Maybe your apartment has a back door,” Zisteau muttered, a finger tracing along a floor plan on his book. Etho rolled his eyes as the door tinkled open. A pair of dark blue-rimmed glasses flashed into the shop, headed for the bar, and ordered the exact same intricate concoction that was sitting in front of Zisteau.

Etho stared dumbly as the glasses guy passed right by their table, headed for the newspaper rack, took a paper, and walked right back outside. He looked across at Zisteau, who was still staring intently at the same floor plan, and stopped an urge to run.

“I’m… gonna get back to my shop,” he said. “Maybe Blue-Gray will pass by today.”

Zisteau’s head snapped up in indignation. “You don’t even know his name?!”

 

_iii. adoration_

The eaves were dripping heavily with rainwater one dreary afternoon, and Etho was just thinking about closing early when a drenched college student ran into the shelter of the flower shop and gave him a small smile. “Hi.”

“Hi, uh.” He swore he had words prepared for when he next saw Blue-Gray, but all those just went flying out the window when Blue-Gray put down a wrapped _Handbook of Neurobiology_ on the counter and wrung out the bottom of his shirt. “Don’t you live right upstairs? You should clean up there.” _Arkas,_ declareda small embossed label on his book. Etho looked away.

“I haven’t bought a flower in a while,” Arkas (?) said, his hair dripping water onto his nose. He looked around at the baskets, in such a familiar gesture that Etho felt warmer. “Exams, you know.”

“I have the perfect thing.” He leaned down and pulled the biggest sunflower from a hidden basket. “I know you don’t like yellow, but… it’s the happiest flower there is.”

“Is that a thing?” Arkas crinkled his nose and smiled. “I’ll take it.”

Etho watched him go up the stairs with a big bright dot of yellow in his arms, and hoped he didn’t just teach Arkas to look up the meanings of the flowers he’d been giving him.

 

_iv. patience_

“What do you do with all the flowers at home?”

The question fell out of his mouth before he could stop it, and Arkas looked up at him from the basket of baby’s breath he’d been examining. The question had been weighing on his mind for some time, and he couldn’t really imagine Arkas as the type to use flowers as decoration in his apartment.

To his surprise, Arkas turned a delicate pink. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Is it a girl?” Etho teased. “How come I haven’t seen them? …Maybe it’s a guy?”

“No! No.” Arkas laughed. “It’s… not because of a person. Just… forget it.”

Etho grinned at the blush still on the other’s cheeks. “You know I can make flower crowns. You don’t have to buy the flowers themselves.” Arkas groaned. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Don’t want to lose my best customer.” Etho ducked under the counter and went to a basket on a lower shelf outside. “Here, as an apology.”

“Is that what this flower means, then?” Arkas twirled the allium in his hand, and Etho realized that this was the first time he’d stood in front of Arkas without a counter between them.

“No, alliums are patience,” he said reflexively. Customers asked flower meanings all the time, but this was the one customer he didn’t want knowing flower meanings.

Arkas looked thoughtful as he climbed back up the stairs to his apartment.

 

_v. shame_

“Did you know sunflowers also meant secret admiration?” Arkas asked smugly the next day, breezing by and smoothly picking up a peony from a basket.

“Maybe.” Etho laughed, not bothering to stand up from the table, where he was finishing the last of a set of centerpieces for a wedding. The floor was covered in the rest of the completed orders.

“Is that why you gave me the lilacs?” he continued pointedly, as Etho turned back to the vase to hide his smile. “Were you feeling confident that day?”

“Since you already seem to know what it means, I’ll give you the peony for free if you shut up.” He heard Arkas chuckle one last time, and when he heard the telltale footsteps up the stairs, he looked at his baskets. In the place of the missing peony was a slightly wilted sunflower.

 

_vi. honorable_

“You’ve been making those for a couple days now,” Arkas pointed out one Saturday morning, as he came down from his apartment in a shirt and shorts—practically sleepwear.

“Um, yeah, the event is tomorrow,” Etho said. “I’m going to help set up the flowers and stuff. And it’s my friends’ wedding—” he nodded awkwardly, “—big day.”

“Sounds fun.” Arkas smiled brightly at him, standing still. His fingers brushed over the tops of the roses in one of the baskets outside; Etho kept his eyes on the white one at his fingertips, and breathed. “Do you maybe wanna go with me?” At Arkas’s bewildered expression, he added quickly, “It’s nothing too formal, you know, it’s just a garden wedding, but if you don’t want to—”

“No, yeah, I’ll go, it’s just.” Arkas bit his lip, smiling. “I don’t even know your name.”

Etho smiled back, at the memory of an architecture grad student bent over his book at a coffee shop. “I’m Etho. Nice to meet you—” he paused deliberately, to relish the expression on the other’s face, “—Arkas.”

 

_vii. admission_

“E—THO!”

The addressed simply chuckled at the loud greeting from the tall, dark-skinned groom that was bounding towards him. “Hi, Pause,” he grinned. He felt rather than saw Arkas move slightly behind him.

“These flowers look so good, E, I’ve had like five people ask me where I got them,” Pause said loudly over the quiet violins blossoming through the dancing crowd. “Oh, is this your date? Hello,” he extended a hand out to Arkas, who took it. “I hear you’ve been trying to buy out Etho’s flower shop? Right choice, I say.”

“Not much success so far,” Arkas said, glancing sideways at Etho, who was apparently already telling his friends about him. “He has a lot of flowers.”

“You won’t succeed because I will first!” Pause grinned at him, and Arkas blushed. “Just kidding. You two are adorable together. Just don’t ask about the mask, and you’ll have a great, loving relationship together.” Pause ignored Etho’s exasperated groan and said quickly, “Alright I gotta go talk to more guests, love you E, bye!”

“College friends.” Etho shrugged at Arkas, hoping this explained things enough. Hoping to diffuse the tension, he held out his hand and asked, “Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure.” Arkas took his hand and meekly followed him out onto the dance floor. He slipped his hand into Etho’s as though they did this everyday, and started to turn.

“Sorry about Pause, I suspect he might be a little tipsy already,” Etho told him quietly. Sensing his internal struggle, he sighed and continued, “The mask is just because I have this deep cut over my lip.” Arkas looked up at him in surprise. “It’s not as big a deal as Pause makes it, I promise.”

“You wouldn’t have minded if I asked?”

Etho shook his head, gripping Arkas tighter. “I’m used to it.”

“Has Pause seen you with it off, then?” Arkas said, feeling a little emboldened.

“No.” He smiled; the fabric around his mouth and neck felt tighter, and he visualized his mask moving slightly, a tiny indicator of the grin on his face. “Not many people have, I’m not—it’s not something I show off.” Arkas nodded, unsure what to say, and Etho didn’t bother adding, _it doesn’t stop people from wanting to see, though._

He did, however, say: “Now that my big secret’s revealed, mind telling me yours?”

Arkas stared. “I have a big secret?”

“What you do with all my flowers,” Etho said simply, his eyes roving over the centerpieces and wall hangings of white roses around them. Arkas followed his eyes. “I mean, I’m glad you’re not taken—” he laced their fingers together, pulling him closer, “—but I’m still curious.”

The song changed to a slower one and people around them started to sit. Arkas closed his eyes and leaned into his chest briefly. “I have been sneezing nonstop since I moved into the apartment above the shop.”

Etho’s eyebrows bunched together. “That’s not embarrassing.”

Arkas blushed deeper, barely visible in the dim light. “I’ve been trying to buy every single flower to figure out which one I’m allergic to. Because I was too shy to ask you for help. And also because I can’t Google the answer.”

“First of all, that’s really cute, how dare you,” Etho murmured into his ear, pulling him even closer, sparks going up his arms and neck as Arkas slid his arms around him. “And second, you don’t have to keep buying them. How about you come over sometime and I can let you sniff around and see which one you sneeze at?”

“That sounds nice,” Arkas said, muffled into his neck.

“I’m glad you think so.” Etho smiled and turned to press his lips against Arkas’s cheek, earning him yet another blush.

“Your mask is thinner than I thought,” Arkas mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

Etho laughed at that.

**Author's Note:**

> \- zisteau is totally an architecture student and no it is not a bias SHH  
> \- the minecraft flowers have great meanings actually. the flowers i didn't include are either not commercially available in flower shops, or just didn't fit in the progression of events that i wanted.  
> \- there's so many ways that we could headcanon how etho feels about his mask and taking it off and showing other people, and this is just one of the many ways i like to take it. it's fun to write and play with, though.  
> \- fun fact: poppies mean "pleasure"! but since i have sworn off smut, i am not writing that. it is supposed to be the next chapter though. *wink wink*


End file.
